If you don't do it, the French will. They're hanging round now
looking out for an opportunity. Listen!

Both men moved instinctively towards the open part of the hut and
looked across towards the village. Up from the little open space
in front of the King's dwelling-house leaped a hissing bright flame;
they had kindled a fire, and black forms of men, stark naked and
wounding themselves with spears, danced around it and made the air
hideous with discordant cries. The King himself, too drunk to stand,
squatted upon the ground with an empty bottle by his side. A breath
of wind brought a strong, noxious odour to the two men who stood
watching. Captain Francis puffed hard at his cigarette.

"Ugh!" he muttered; "beastly!"

"You may take my word for it," Trent said gruffly, "that if your two
hundred soldiers weren't camped in the bush yonder, you and I and
poor Monty would be making sport for them to-night. Now come. Do
you think a quarrel with that crew is a serious thing to risk?"

"In the interests of civilisation," Captain Francis answered, with
a smile, "I think not."

"I don't care how you put it," Trent answered shortly. "You soldiers
all prate of the interests of civilisation. Of course it's all rot.
You want the land - you want to rule, to plant a flag, and be called
a patriot."

Captain Francis laughed. "And you, my superior friend," he said,
glancing at Trent, gaunt, ragged, not too clean, and back at Monty